Indiscretion
by That's SQUALL
Summary: Their murmured words were indistinct, muffled by the distance, but the sharp quickness of their breaths was more telling than any dialogue could possibly have been. 7x8. Written at the Strifehart Kink Meme.


Sephiroth heard it as he approached the camp, his enhanced hearing picking up the faint noises of activity not too far away. As he neared, he could make out two voices; their murmured words were indistinct, muffled by the distance, but the sharp quickness of their breaths was more telling than any dialogue could possibly have been. They were being discrete enough for their party, stealing away a few hundred meters in the darkness and grasping at silence, but not for him.

A quiet, gasping moan reached his ears, and Sephiroth smirked. The only member of the slumbering party who would be able to hear the noise from that distance was currently occupied eliciting more just like it, if he wasn't mistaken. What a convenient situation that was, for Cloud, to be the most perceptive among his own. It was a privilege that Sephiroth shared--and exploited--as well.

A few steps further, and Sephiroth could make out their forms against the face of a rocky ledge. As sharp as his eyesight was, they were but silhouettes at this distance, one shadow pressed against the rock with a leg hooked over the other shadow's hip, making a single shadow that moved in rhythmic unison. A bit closer, and Sephiroth could see distinctly that they really _were_ two figures.

Squall's back was arched, his head pressed back against the wall behind him, his lips parted as he sucked in the night air. "_Hyne_," he was whispering, as he raked trembling fingers down Cloud's back. Cloud had his face buried in the younger man's throat as he thrust into him, groaning quietly against damp skin.

Sephiroth paused briefly to admire how absolutely vulnerable Cloud was right now, disarmed and completely absorbed in the pretty boy he was fucking. Masamune could be drawn instantly, and with one quick stab...

But that wasn't the way Sephiroth operated. This was no assassination. He wanted a proper duel, and he wanted Cloud to look him in the eye as he died at his sword. He had originally come, of course, with the intent of challenging Cloud and luring him away from his party with the promise of that duel. It was the least Sephiroth could to do weaken their unity. But that could wait; he had other ideas now. Their fight was inevitable--and since it had no chance to slip away, it would only serve his purpose better to give Cloud time to fret properly first.

Cloud was cursing under his breath now, each of his quickening thrusts punctuated by a gasp from Squall. Fingers scrabbled over skin in a desperate push for more, both of them still oblivious to the dark figure that drew ever nearer. If they were not so far gone, they surely would have noticed the faint gust of displaced air as the figure passed, dangerously near to them. But at that precise moment, their undivided attention was occupied by Squall's shuddering orgasm and the deep groan that marked it.

Cloud was quick to follow, Sephiroth noted, with a careless glance over his shoulder. He had passed entirely unnoticed, so close that he could have nearly touched them if he'd extended an arm to his side. He wondered if Cloud realized how dangerous this little distraction potentially was to him; he assumed not, and he was fully prepared to rectify that error of judgment.

Passing into the camp light-footed, Sephiroth was mildly disgusted (albeit unsurprised) to see that there was no one keeping watch. Cloud had no doubt offered to do the job, only to neglect it in favor of fulfilling his carnal desires, abandoning his slumbering companions in their tents. Never mind. It wouldn't happen again--not after tonight.

Sephiroth slipped out of his leather trench coat, and his dark wing sprang out with a flourish, unfurling luxuriously in the darkness. Curling it toward himself, he carefully inspected the feathers before selecting one and plucking it out. He set it delicately on the ground, where it would attract Cloud's attention upon his return to the camp. To anyone else, it would be unremarkable; but the spiky-haired blond would know the implication and shudder at it.

Cloud would recognize the feather's origin, no doubt, and that in itself would say it as clearly as if Sephiroth had left a written note for him:

_I could have killed them all in their sleep, for your incompetence._

Cloud would berate himself. He would remember to loathe his own foolishness, and he would push Squall away out of misplaced nobility. Cloud would remember to fear him, to obsess over that fear, and he would remember what it was to suffer alone. And then he would break the unity of the party himself, jeopardizing them all, to seek out his opponent and settle their score.

Satisfied, Sephiroth pulled his coat back on and walked unhurriedly away.

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Written at the Strifehart kink meme. YES, THERE IS A KINK MEME FOR THIS PAIRING AND THIS PAIRING ONLY.

**http://community. livejournal. com/cleonrp/2723. html** (minus spaces, of course)

GO GO GO!!


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